


Pride on Tower 8

by Emblue_Sparks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Major Illness, Nobody is Dead, Pride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 05:33:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14909300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emblue_Sparks/pseuds/Emblue_Sparks
Summary: When Dean's health takes a rough turn, he lands himself in the hospital unit of Tower 8. He's refused angelic healing, but more than one miracle occurs during a lucky, makeshift Pride celebration.





	Pride on Tower 8

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tfw_cas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfw_cas/gifts).



> I'm writing this because I'm on Tower 8, stuck and not able to watch my hometown Pride parade with beloved family and friends. So my ill ass decided to write about Destiel and Pride, bringing it to me if I can't go out. My situation is similar to Deans but not identical. I was inspired because all of the unit nurses really are wearing rainbow lamenated ID badges in support of equal rights and love for all. The events aren't really far off the mark. My walking group..IV poles and all have been humorously coined the Kidney Pride Brigade.
> 
> This little story is unbeta'd, sorry I wrote it on my phone. As always though, please feel free to point out any mistakes. And the Swedish song title is Dota, a techno song by Jonas Altberg(aka Basshunter) about the video game. 
> 
> Also of interest, coincidentally some of my medical staff which I will not identify by their positions, have the names:  
> Amara, Sam, Michael Novak.. there's actually two Amara's. So it seems SPN and Pride are surrounding me during this time. It brings me comfort and I hope this story does for y'all too. So for anyone waiting, anyone hurting, missing Pride, and wishing they were home with those they hold dear, this is for you!

Dean was up shit creek. He knew it. The hard life was wearing on him to the point he now lay in his hospital bed, tossing and turning, in pain. He couldn't escape this, he wouldn't escape this. He’d refused Cas’s offer to heal, refused despite his angels begging and pleading. Dean simply wouldn't allow Cas to give up any more grace for him. This was nature taking its course, but hell he wasn't resigned to this fate, he was a fighter after all, a warrior. 

After Cas had ripped Michael from him, and sent him to a secret place only Billie knew of, a place where nobody would come back from, they all thought Dean just needed some time. Michael's vessel had sustained significant damage. It was a credit to Michael's strength his Sword did not break during their nightmarish “Around the World in 80 Days” campaign to purify this universe. So when Dean was less than able to bounce back, Sam, Jack, and Cas had thought he simply needed time to recover. Time they gladly gave him.

Right now Dean, in all his pain and discomfort, held on to the precious moments he remembered in the quiet darkness of night when Cas would take off a few layers. He'd curl around him in bed to bring up his core body temperature til the chills and fever would abate. He wasn't stupid, he could pick out a few word strings of Enochian which betrayed Cas’s reverent prayers to Chuck that he heal this human whom he loved more than his own life. It just never ever seemed the right time or place to give Cas the words he so desperately wanted to hear, but would never ask for. And now this mess.

As he fussed and fidgeted to get comfortable, he also exasperatingly pushed around the catheter in his neck which the doctors had placed only an hour after his collapse in the library for which Sam had rushed him to the closest ER. Acute Renal Injury. That's what it was called when you took a few hard knocks in the wrong place, when your family was trying to free you from the grasp of a most powerful Archangel. Between his drinking and that last fight a month back in which he’d finally reclaimed the drivers seat and was thankfully  _ Oh Solo Mio _ , he was suffering from sudden kidney failure.

At first Cas had been offended by Dean's refusal. Then his angel had been angry, wrathful even. He felt like absolute shit wringing such a reaction from Cas. But this was something he’d decided to do on his own, a penance for the lives lost by Michaels hand, by his own ha-

No, he couldn't go there, it would take too much of a toll on his barely functioning kidneys. He was responsible for inviting Michael in. Yes. But he knows he didn't kill those people, that Michael would’ve found a way no matter what.

He’d managed a conversation with Cas. Explained why he wouldn't allow him his healing touch. If Cas understood anything, it was penance. His angel softened a little, but the sorrow in his eyes, his own pain, angelic and different as it was, made itself known every time those blue eyes landed on his.

So now he was stuck with a permacath in his neck that stuck out through his chest and stung like a sonuvabitch, while he waited until morning to begin his first dialysis treatment. He just couldn't get comfortable no matter how hard he tried. The sound of a metal IV pole clanging with tubes and apparatus wound its way from the hall into his room. His roommate Mark had risen a little while earlier for a walk, it was common in these hours he’d noticed during his stay on the unit. The head which popped in the room belonged to one 78 year old Jessa Grayce, a black woman of iron character yet full of heart and smiles.

“Trouble a’brewing at….”  _ what the hell time was it anyways, _ he wondered, twisting his upper body to stare at the clock on the wall, “4 am?”

“Ain’t no trouble sugar pie, just like Queen Patsy said, ‘We go out walkin’ after midnight, out in the moonlight,” well fluorescent moonlight anyhow…”

“Oh, and which of the rebel rousers are out tonight?” Dean asked, his interest piqued.

Just then Joanne, Mark, and Kurt poked their heads around the corner, IV poles in tow.

“That's it, I refuse to let you start a gang without me. Best get Raul as well,” Dean laughed as he dragged himself up from what he knew to be a futile attempt at sleep. He threw on the dead guy robe and slippers Sammy had brought for him, and proceeded to shuffle into the hallway with half a head of hair spiked to the four corners and bags under his eyes, which as of late began showing signs of yellow next to his beautiful green irises.

“We Jets or Sharks t’nite Ms. Jessa?” he asked with his voice brimming in respect for the elder who was still spry as a spring chicken.

“Hmmmm, best let you see. Then you can decide,” she nearly crooned at him in amusement.

“Well then lead the way, oh fierce commander,” he issued right back. The others giggled behind them.

They trudged carefully, some still fresh from transplant were lagging, but the group over the last few days had naturally adjusted to the pace of the slowest walker, which tonight was Mark.

Before they even turned the corner Dean could hear the low volume, rapid beat and bass of the type of music he usually classified as craptastistic tech-NO. He chuckled to himself and wondered what in tarnation was happening when he saw most of the nurses decked out in rainbow boas, flared sunglasses, and a few rainbow flags.

_ June. Pride Month. Aha…. _

_ “ _ Well it's a little early for Team Walking Dead to be up and about isn't it?” Nurse Xavier said, with his typical southern drawl and a pair of faux daggers shooting from his eyes.

“Keep runnin’ that smart mouth of yours X and I’ll be sure to find a Professor title and a nifty looking wheelchair to match that the tone. I told you this shit is real and one of these days I’m gonna drag both my Dad and his bat down here to prove it,” Dean replied in his best serious voice.

It was like a record scratched. For ten seconds. By that time Dean had made his way to the little boombox resting on the counter of the nurses station, he quickly hit resume and started bouncing his head to the rythym and started singing~

_ Vi sitter här i venten och spelar lite DotA _ __  
_ å pushar på å smeker, _ __  
_ med motståndet vi leker. _ __  
_ Vi sitter här i venten och spelar lite DotA _ __  
_ å springer runt å creepar, _ _  
_ __ och motståndet vi sleepar.

The crowd of nurses erupted in quiet cheer as Nurse Xavier's mouth first formed an almost perfect O, and then broke into a smile, followed by a  _ no way _ !

Dean and rest of his gang proceeded to carefully get jiggy wit it in the middle of the unit station and when the swedish song ended Dean threatened, pointed finger at Nurse X and all, “If you breathe a word of this to any of my family so help me I’ll-”

“Dude I promise, what happens in Tower 8, stays in Tower 8. Hypocratic oath, remember? You think spilling the beans on this gem is worth losing my job over? Besides...that ship has sailed…”

It took a few moments for Dean to catch to the last bit and when he did, he turned to see a rather breathless looking Sam, Cas, and Jack behind him sporting three even bigger O’s. Dean immediately stopped his cautious, ravetastic gyrations. Cas’s hair was windswept, he was wearing one of Dean’s light grey henleys and jeans which made him look even more magically delicious.  

_ Well shit. _

He grabbed the front of Cas’s shirt and laid a kiss on him so sweet and tender he thought the entire witnessing unit would turn into a puddle on the floor by the cacophony of ooo’s and awh’s.

“Damn Dean, Cas hasn't even delivered the news yet and you’re thanking him.”

Somehow Dean was able to resurface and ask, “What news?” without breaking eye contact with an incredibly delirious angel.

A few seconds after recovering, Cas happily delivered, “Jimmy is a match, Dean. Sam hacked into someplace and found everything necessary for me to do the blood type and tissue testing. I can help you heal, without sacrificing my mojo even though I still feel you’re being ridiculous.”

Dean's eyes widened in awe and wonder. A tear escaped and trickled down his face as he whispered, “I knew I fell in love with Mr. Right. Thanks for fighting for me Cas, and fighting for yourself to stay  _ you.” _

Cas simply smiled back at him, held his hand over Dean’s that was cupping his cheek, and leaned in to kiss him just as gently but added a dash of unmistakable enthusiasm. Sam and Jack cheered, along with the rest of the nurses and gang. Pride wasn't the only thing they were celebrating at the buttcrack of dawn that morning. Renewed health moved to the top of the list. Each year Dean went back to the unit to deliver pizza pies and cherry pies in thanks to the wonderful medical team who became some of Dean and Cas's biggest cheerleaders. Dean's health was back up to par within a few months. He’d decided to retire from hunting, to hang back and take up the role as teacher and resource specialist for any hunters ever in need of help. Sam, Cas, and Jack headed the training department, assisting younger hunters as often as they could.

Dean was always thankful he got to experience his first Pride among the safety of his new friends and family. He learned that trusting others and loving yourself, your true self, was the magic that happened that early morning on Tower 8.

 


End file.
